


Pump It

by legallyblained



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Gas Station AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legallyblained/pseuds/legallyblained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt, Rachel and Santana are working in a gas station for their last summer before college. Blaine and the Warblers are working for a construction company who just happen to be working on the aforementioned gas station. This fic has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I used to work at a petrol station in my summer holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: more terrible innuendoes than you can shake a penis at.

Santana twisted the radio aerial in frustration as the forklift drove past the shop window again.

“Can’t he find another way of dumping that crap? He keeps disturbing the signal.”

Kurt’s eyes followed the brunette, the arms flexing as they turned the steering wheel, his tight orange shirt (ugh, that should really not work) accentuating his muscles and highlighting his tan.

“He can disturb whatever he wants.”

Rachel’s ears perked up and she dropped the box of chips she was holding and ran over to the window.

“Who? Let me see! Is it the cute one again?”

“No, Rachel, I’ve got an ugly guy kink now. The greasy one with the ponytail, he’s my new favourite. Of course the cute one!”

Rachel ignored his tone, knowing what this weather did to him, and stoop on tip-toe to see out over the shelves.

“Why don’t they have any women working for them? It’s discrimination. It’s sexist.”

“Santana; there are a thousand girls coming in here in short skirts every day. Can’t you let us have this?”

“But the girls aren’t in uniform… Well, I can’t be as frustrated as you’re gonna be. He’s definitely straight.”

“He better be,” Rachel sighed hopefully, “that hard hat’s kind of…”

“Ohh, safety is so sexy! I can’t believe you’re not checking out his ass. It’s just bouncing away right in front of you-”

“Santana!” Kurt bumped his hip into hers and laughed. “You’re the worst lesbian ever.”

“I’m just saying; he almost had my eye out with that thing. Jesus.”

“Anyway, you don’t know he’s straight. Just because he’s a builder-”

Santana cackled.

“Don’t get all ‘can’t judge a book by its cover’ with me. If you think a gay builder is just going to stroll in here and bone you against the freezer, you’ve been watching too much porn. You can keep dreaming all you want, but Captain Tush over there is straight.”

“Care to make it interesting?”

“I was already entertained, but sure. Ten bucks.”

They shook hands and Rachel squealed excitedly both at the bet and the possibility that he was straight, taking one last look before getting back to work. Kurt sighed as the forklift turned and rumbled back to the construction zone.

“Twenty dollars on five, please.”

Santana gave Kurt a sharp nudge in the ribs and he shook his head to try to concentrate.

“What?”

“Pump five. Gas. I’d like to… you know… buy some?”

The woman on the other side of the counter had one eyebrow raised at him as his gaze kept wandering outside while he picked up something from her basket, his hand holding it in mid-air absent-mindedly. He could see dozens of people outside, the sunroofs down on their cars, windows open, shades and windswept hair, and he wished he could be in real summer clothes like them and not his unflattering work uniform. Black trousers and a green polo that was far looser than he would normally wear, with the white ‘EZFuel’ logo hovering above his nametag. Apart from his boss, he was the only male member of staff, and he hated how the girls looked unfairly good in it compared to him. He felt like a shapeless lump, even more so as the heat continued to melt him. It wasn’t even hot inside, the air-con took care of that, but he could feel the sunlight on his shoulder and every person that came in was buying either ice cream or cold beer or barbecue food or gas so they could drive to the middle of nowhere just because the sun was shining, and it went to his head. He felt the discomfort of being too hot without getting to enjoy it.

A boy in shades stood outside, unable to wait until he got home to eat his popsicle, and started licking hungrily as the juice rolled onto the tip of his finger. Another, a blonde, squeezed firmly on the gas pump, the nozzle buried deep as it filled the-

“Kurt!”

“Not now!” he snapped before remembering where he was: not in the sun with some tanned lover, but at work, serving people who reminded him time after time just how lovely it was outside. He swallowed as Santana and the woman he was serving looked at him in confusion and shock. Her little girl pulled on her shorts, nagging her for candy.

“Sorry?”

“No, not you- I mean, uh, sorry. I’m really sorry, madam, um, number five, right. How much did you want?”

“Twenty… please,” she mumbled, fearing another outburst.

“Yes, okay. Let me get these,” he said, trying to act as sanely as possible as he started scanning and packing her groceries.

Normally he would be able to remain professional. He would concentrate on his job, menial as it was, and do it in a polite, professional manner. It was a nice place to work: he was always busy, he got to talk to people all day, and he adored his colleagues in a stupid kind of way. 

The girls were brilliant, constantly making lewd comments about customers’ butts and flirting shamelessly with everyone they saw and bitching about the creepy old men that came in. They were completely aware of the double standard - that apparently it was fine for them to ogle everything they saw but be offended by the attention of someone unattractive, but they were working at minimum wage while everyone else was outside. They didn’t particularly care about political correctness. 

Jenny, the boss’ wife and mother hen, doted on Kurt and the girls as if they were the children she’d never had (she did have her own kids, but they were brats), and every time they talked about nights out and drinking and boys, or in Santana’s case, girls, she would join in the gossiping but also show concern for their safety. They giggled helplessly when she asked them if they wouldn’t rather have a relationship and a real date and a quiet dinner some place nice. They were eighteen and earning enough to money to have some fun before they left for college. They weren’t going to start anything that would tie them to Lima.

“Gorgeous day today, isn’t it?”

Kurt smiled and nodded, calmly packing the items in front of him as the woman he was serving tried to keep her child quiet. He paused before putting the bag of m&ms in.

“Are these for after lunch, or should I give them to her now?”

She sighed gratefully.

“Well, sweetie, why don’t you ask the man nicely for your candy?”

Kurt dangled the packet from his side of the counter, mesmerising the little girl. Almost in a trance, she reached out for them, but he held them back.

“What do you say?”

“Please can I have them?”

If there hadn’t been a queue building, he would have kept going until he got a ‘may I’, but that would have to do. He smiled at her and passed her the candy. She didn’t open them, but held the packet in her sticky hands, transfixed by the boy she didn’t even know who was setting boundaries for her. Kurt felt smug as he packed the rest of the groceries. All the children got like this in the summer vacation. Their parents were stressed and tired of dealing with them all day and their powers of persuasion were usually wearing thin, and a different voice telling them to behave was usually just what they needed.

“Resorting to bribery on day three; can’t be a good sign.”

“It’s that time of day, isn’t it?” A response Kurt found effective 24/7. “The sun makes them all a little crazy.”

She nodded eagerly, so grateful that someone was telling her it was alright to feel frazzled. Kurt had figured out, after three years of working with the public, how to tell them exactly what they wanted to hear, and he liked cheering them up. Something as simple as a smile at six in the morning could make someone’s day that little bit better, and even though working in a gas-station-slash-grocery-store wasn’t the high-powered career he envisioned for himself later on, he still took pride in it for now.

“And what do you say to the nice man?”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, almost zombie-like, gazing up at Kurt’s smile as if he knew some answer and she didn’t even know the question yet.

He grinned at her and tapped deftly at the screen.

“Okay, girls, that’ll be thirty-five ninety, please.”

The woman almost giggled at being called a girl instead of ‘ma’am’, and handed over her card. He felt better after working semi-normally. He even managed not to let his mind wander when he swiped the card through the slot. 

As soon as the flustered woman had left, Santana confronted him as they both carried on working.

“What’s gotten into you today? Did she piss you off? Does she owe you money?”

“Hot.”

She frowned.

“I didn’t think she was your type.”

“It’s too hot. There are boys everywhere and they’re not wearing much and I-”

Santana burst out laughing.

“That’s it? You’re horny and you’re taking it out on innocent customers?”

He blushed.

“I was nice to her for most of it.”

“Are you kidding me? You made a good recovery, sure, but I could swear you were going hit her when she dragged your attention away from the Buttmobile over there. Kurt ‘please-let-me-carry-your-bags-to-your-car’ Hummel, maybe by anyone else’s standards that may have been nice, but it’s hardly employee of the month material.”

“We don’t have an employee of the month-”

“Well if we start, it definitely won’t be you.”

He took a deep breath. Even when he wanted to be unreasonable and moody like a proper teenager, just for once, she was taking it away from him. It was rude.

“You know it will. Jenny loves me. And it’s not just the heat. I could get through it if it weren’t for the noise,” he nodded towards the construction outside. The shop was being extended, which was good for business and eye candy but terrible for noise pollution, and worse for Kurt’s mood. “I’ve got a headache.”

Santana put a hand on her hip.

“Well, you’re standing in front of a wall of pharmaceuticals. Take your pick and stop whining. Stare at Freddie Forklift again; it might cheer you up.”

He snorted and took a packet of aspirin from the shelf, popping two out and knocking them back with his warm glass of water. He gave Santana a look that said ‘satisfied?’ and she smiled sweetly to show that she was.

“Great. I’m taking my break. Try not to eat any customers while I’m gone.”

“Only the delicious ones, I promise.”

A woman laughed as Kurt handed over her change and told her to have a nice day. She walked away, revealing the man who had been waiting patiently behind her, listening to Kurt and Santana’s entire exchange. He grinned smoothly at Kurt.

“I’d better be careful, then.”

Kurt had every intention of saying something devastatingly witty. He was just unprepared. His mind screamed ‘WHEN DID YOU GET IN HERE HOW MUCH HAVE YOU HEARD WHY DIDN’T I SEE YOU CLIMB OFF THE FORKLIFT BECAUSE THAT MUST HAVE LOOKED NICE AND YOUR HAIR IS CURLY AND OH A DROP OF SWEAT ON YOUR EARLOBE WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO LICK IT OFF AND OH GOD _PLEASE BE GAY_ ,’ and his mouth mumbled something about a missing Indian.

“I think you’re supposed to say Native American.”

Oh. His voice was really nice.

“Ha, right, I just, you know, with the hard hat, construction workers, Village People. You don’t have an Indian. You must get that all the time.”

“Again; Native American.” He grinned. “And actually, I think Steve’s part Cherokee. He’s just not allowed to wear the headdress. Health and safety.”

He extended his arm (mmm arm nice arm lovely arm), handing Kurt a bottle of water. Kurt stood still for a second, forgetting what he was supposed to do. Rachel walked behind the man to get to the shelf on the other side of him. She stopped in her tracks, her fingers turning white as she gripped onto the box in her arms excitedly. Now Kurt had to deal with her mouthing ‘it’s him!’ and pointing, as if he wasn’t confused enough already.

“Hi.”

He expected the frown of someone who’s just met a psychopath. He received a mischievous smirk.

“Okay, so this is when you take the bottle and wave it in front of that thing there. Some numbers should come up on the screen.”

“Why, thank you sir. Maybe later I could show you how to handle your tools properly.”

That was the response he thought of later and kicked himself.

In the moment, of course, he had nothing.

“Right. Yep.”

He took the bottle, surprised by how cold it was, and scanned it. As predicted, a price appeared on the screen. He had no idea how many times he’d read out prices with no problems whatsoever, but now all he saw was a couple of odd shapes that he had no idea how to pronounce. He felt it taking too long and he felt the man, boy, disgustingly attractive thing staring at him, trying not to laugh and he felt Rachel trying to catch his attention as he glared at the screen in frustration.

“So, what do I owe you? The suspense is killing me.”

“One nineteen,” he finally said, fighting an urge to slam his head into the cash register, “please.”

“Cool;” he fished around in his pocket for the money, coming up with two dollar bills, “put the change in there, babe.” He nodded towards the charity pot and winked. Winked. He was so cocky. Kurt hated people giving him nicknames; even ‘dude’ was irritating, but other people didn’t smile like that when they said it. It was a good thing he didn’t want the change, because Kurt’s hands had stopped functioning.

“Thanks, Captain Tush,” he sighed dreamily before clapping his hand over his mouth. The man turned back to face him eyebrows raised.

“Sorry?”

“No! Oh, no, God no, my friend was just calling you, uh, she’s on her break. She’s gay.”

Kurt winced. This guy didn’t know Santana, much less care about her sexual orientation.

“Oh. She’s not very good at it.”

“I am.”

What. Kurt would judge this guy if he didn’t run away screaming. He simply raised an amused eyebrow while his lips quirked to the right.

“I bet you are. I’ll bear it in mind.”

He grinned again and leaned forward to read his badge. Kurt sucked in a breath, excited and terrified, but the excruciating closeness was gone again in a second. He started to miss it.

“Thanks for the drink, Kurt.” He pressed it against his forehead, leaning his head back and letting the condensation cool his skin. His neck was completely exposed, all muscle and vein and Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed. “I’m sure I’ll see a lot more of you before we finish out there. And although I am more than fine with Captain Tush, you could try calling me Blaine. If you want. Catch you later.” 

He grinned again before sauntering back outside, popping the cap off the bottle and taking a long, drawn-out gulp. Kurt could have sworn he was swaying his hips like that on purpose.

“Holy crap,” Rachel interrupted Kurt’s daze as he watched Blaine walk away, “You should really use protection next time you do that.”

Kurt blinked quickly, trying to regain consciousness, and saw a queue of people in front of him. Not a single one looked annoyed by the delay. They just seemed incredibly jealous. Kurt smirked to himself. He was pretty sure he’d just made ten dollars.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for masturbation in this chapter! Yeah!

He tried really hard not to think about him. 

He went home, cooked dinner for the family, asked how everyone’s days had been, went online to order his books for Fall, but his mind kept drifting back to Blaine’s ass. It was interspersed with flashes of his smile and his eyes and his arms, but it kept rolling (appropriately enough, considering the rolling movement was exactly what he couldn’t stop thinking about), back to the butt. He wondered how practical it could be for a construction worker to wear jeans that tight, how he could possibly do any heavy lifting wearing anything that constricting, but Kurt knew he’d worn far tighter and achieved far more difficult positions. Still. There was obviously so much under that denim as it had swayed enticingly out of the shop; he was amazed the fabric hadn’t burst under the pressure. But maybe his imagination was running away with him. He’d only seen the guy for a few seconds up close. He’d probably blown it out of proportion.

One thought of ‘blowing’ and his mind was gone, and within a few clicks he’d left amazon.com behind and was watching something with extra vocalising to make up for its lack of plot and character development. He barely paid attention as his hand drifted south, and he pictured those hands on pliant, meaty flesh, nails digging into skin and muscles clenching as that whole body was flush against him, pushing into him…

Before he realised what he was doing, he felt the movements of his hand speeding up, stroking himself in time with the blurs on the screen, stifling his own groans as he came, his cheeks flushed and his hand and thighs suddenly sticky.

“Fuck.”

He wriggled uncomfortably out of his jeans, grabbing a couple of tissues to wipe himself clean.

_Initial contact to fantasy in under twelve hours. Must be a new record._

He’d been ogling him through the window for a couple of weeks, and the ass had been perfectly visible then, but somehow he had the personality to complement it. It was easier when Kurt could pretend it was just some clueless builder, a straight meathead in an ugly yellow helmet for him and Rachel to giggle over at work. Now he was smart and funny and he’d even had _Kurt_ at a loss for words. His personality shared his butt’s bouncy roundness. Figuratively. 

Kurt frowned. He’d stopped making sense again, and the guy wasn’t even there. Which was probably a good thing, because if that was in his bedroom, he’d probably never let it leave. He remembered, however, that he’d told Blaine that he was very good at being gay. Unless he was incredibly suggestible, it was unlikely that anything was going to happen now.

He felt almost sprightly as he walked to work the next day. It was early enough not to be hot yet, and he was sure a good night’s sleep would calm him down.

An hour into his shift, and he knew he was wrong.

The dancing was fine. It was actually normal for the three of them; three natural performers working together in a confined space almost always ended up in an accidental show behind the counter. Kurt had an arm looped around Santana’s waist, pushing their hips together as Lady Gaga played from Rachel’s iPod, possibly a little louder than necessary. They had to drown out the drilling somehow.

“I wanna kiss you…” Kurt crooned at the girl in his arms as she laughed helplessly when she was meant to be singing too, “Tana, if you don’t do this right then I’m going to make you do some work.”

She pulled herself together.

“But if I do, then I might miss you babe,” she sung back to him, throwing a leg over his hip. He held onto her thigh and dipped her until her hair touched the floor. The store was empty and there was no need for the three of them to be at the register. Any other employees would get in trouble, told to do something useful, but Jenny was in charge today.

Rachel joined in singing, giving Kurt a pinch on _‘got my ass squeezed by sexy cupid’_ , making him jerk up so that Santana lost her balance and had to grab onto a shelf to stop herself falling over.

“Rachel!”

“Kurt!”

“It was her fault!”

“You should be able to handle somebody pinching your ass; it’s no excuse to drop me.”

He stooped down slightly to make sure she was okay, and Rachel took advantage of the opportunity to climb onto his back.

“What the- Rachel, get off me-”

“Two seconds; I need to reach up there-”

Santana finally stood up and froze. They were no longer alone. She started cackling.

“Rachel Berry, there are only a couple of reasons for me ever to be bending over for this long, and they do not involve you. Get the fuck off me-”

“Morning, ladies.”

Kurt stood up abruptly, sending Rachel crashing to the ground, followed by an avalanche of packets of cigarettes. Santana didn’t need to ask what was wrong with him, because they all knew already, and she rushed to pick Rachel up. Rachel resisted the reflex to kick up a fuss over her fall, and she and Santana stood quietly aside to see how Kurt was going to react.

“Oh.”

It wasn’t worth the wait.

“ _Really_ , Kurt, I had you down as more of a gentleman.”

Kurt felt his cheeks burning. The four of them were silent. Santana had to squeeze Rachel’s hand to stop them both from dissolving into giggles while Kurt and Blaine’s eyes locked to ‘I wanna take a ride on your disco stick’. Kurt swallowed, blushing even more, and put on his best business face.

“Let me try again. Good morning, sir; how may I help you?”

That quick recovery floored Blaine slightly, if only for a second. Without dropping eye contact, he reached for a pack of gum and passed it to Kurt, their fingers brushing gently. They both managed to hide the shiver that skated over their skin.

“Just those. I hope we’re not disturbing your busy work schedule too much.”

“Oh, not at all, carry on-”

Santana gave Rachel a sharp nudge in the ribs. As much as she secretly enjoyed letting her ramble most of the time, she would much rather sit back and watch the sexual tension build between the two boys. Blaine flashed Rachel a smile and she couldn’t help giggling. Kurt used the distraction to turn things in his favour.

“It’s actually a pain in the ass, but we’re far too professional to let it affect our work. That’s forty cents, please.”

Blaine smirked, but decided not to bring up the shambolic musical number he’d walked in on. He didn’t need to; Kurt’s cheeks were still pink.

“Well, clearly. Here,” he dropped a couple of coins into Kurt’s hand before tearing the gum open and popping a piece into his mouth. He kept smiling at Kurt as he chewed and offered him the packet, squeezing it so a little white rectangle peeped out of the end. “Want some?” Rachel squeaked and Kurt made a mental note to get her for it later, but he shook his head.

“No, thanks. Watching my figure.” _What does that even mean? He’s going to think you swallow gum. You’re going to be like that weird kid in class who eats paste._

Blaine raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, a little surprised by the refusal.

“It seems to be working. Girls?” He offered the pack to Rachel and Santana.

They chimed out ‘ooh, yes please!’ and ‘don’t mind if I do’, each taking a piece. Rachel threw hers in her mouth and started chewing just as thoughtlessly as Blaine had, but Santana looked pointedly at Kurt before placing it carefully on her tongue, which she then wrapped around it, curling it into her mouth with the slightest lick of her lips. She flashed her eyebrow up at him defiantly, as if to say ‘that’s how it’s done’. He could’ve kicked himself. Perfect opportunity to draw attention to his mouth wasted. He straightened up.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work? I’m sure there’s a menial task out there with your name on it.”

He looked a little hurt, and Kurt instantly felt bad.

“Well, we can’t all work in gas stations. No offence, girls.” They shook their heads to show there was none taken. “I won’t be here for long, Kurt, don’t worry. Aren’t we all just saving for Fall?”

“You’re going to college?”

He nodded with a grin. He wasn’t the least bit upset by the dig at his job. He just wanted to talk to Kurt about something other than gum.

“NYU. Music. It’s just hard to get a summer job as a world famous songwriter, and my friend’s dad owns the construction company, so-”

Kurt took a deep breath. The audible gasp from the girls didn’t exactly help him stay calm.

“Hmm. Me too.”

Blaine’s smile got a little wider.

“Singer? I mean, I thought you were good just then, I-”

“No, that’s just for these two. Design. I was talking about New York.”

Just when he thought the smile must have reached full capacity, Blaine proved him wrong.

“Following me, huh? I’ll keep an eye out for you. You know, in case you feel like tracking me down.”

Kurt felt like there was a tiny imp jumping up and down and screaming in his stomach, offering to install some kind of GPS system in his ass as there was more than enough room in one of those cheeks for a microchip. He did his best to ignore it.

“I guess. If I’m not sick of you by the end of the week.”

Rachel’s eyes widened in shock at his apparent rudeness. Santana raised her eyebrows and gave an impressed nod.

“You’re giving me a whole week to impress you? Lucky me. You’re right though, I really should get back out there. Sure I can’t tempt you?”

He offered the gum again, but for some reason Kurt felt sure that changing his mind now would be a sign of weakness. And his mouth was so dry that if he put anything in his mouth he’d almost definitely choke on it. He shrugged and shook his head, taking a sip of water to keep his hands busy.

“I’m fine.”

“Mmm.” Was that an agreement? He made his way towards the door, stopping before he left. “You know, Kurt, if you ever need a break from watching your figure, I could always watch it for you.”

He didn’t even stay to see the impact he’d had, which he later regretted, but he wanted to leave Kurt wanting more.

It worked.

“What just happened?”

“I think he just did some kind of mating ritual.”

“I think he just called me fat.”

“I think you just called his job menial. In your EZFuel shirt. You should just be grateful he didn’t slap you.”

“Kurt, he likes you! And he’s going to New York! And he’s so pretty!”

Kurt clapped his hands together in a perfect Rachel impression.

“And maybe we’ll get married and adopt a whole family of cats! Calm down, Rachel. And Santana, I believe you’re just trying to avoid paying up. That is one ridiculously homosexual builder.”

She hummed in annoyance, pulling a note from her cleavage.

“Maybe you just defy gender.”

“Uh-huh,” he plucked the money from between her fingers and did a victory dance on the spot, “well even if I made an ass out of myself, at least I’ve made ten bucks out of it.”

“So that’s it? You’re not even going to try? But I thought you liked him.”

Rachel sounded almost heartbroken.

“Just because we’re both gay and we’re both going to New York, you think we should be, what, a couple?”

Her face fell even more.

“You know I didn’t mean that. I would never- he just seems… nice.”

“Don’t take it out on her. Look us in the eyes and tell us you don’t think he’s hot.”

Kurt paused. He knew better than to be mean to Rachel. She was grating, but she had good intentions.

“Sorry. He’s… sure. He’s cute, but how am I supposed to-”

Santana shoved him.

“He’s right outside. He’s going to be there, in the sunshine, every day until the construction’s finished. Can’t you use your imagination? I bet you can’t-”

“I don’t want to make any more bets, Santana-”

“I’m not asking for money. I’m asking you to try.”

“Unless you’re scared of a challenge?” Rachel butted in.

She had him there. He knew he was being manipulated, but he also knew that he was anything but a coward. He took a moment to glance outside, just as Blaine was pulling his shirt over his head. Typical. He looked at the other workers, all still fully clothed. It was hot enough to strip, but trust Blaine to be the first one to do it. He looked at him again, only to find those caramel eyes looking right back at him. They simultaneously sucked in a breath and their gazes darted away.

“Fucking hell. You’re better than this, Kurt. Now, do exactly what I tell you.”

Blaine wished he’d brought sunblock. His mother warned him every day, and today had to be the one time he forgot. He could’ve sworn he could actually hear his skin frying. He told himself he didn’t mind being the only shirtless one; he knew he had the body for it, but he had hoped at least a couple of the others would follow suit. He felt like kind of a douchebag.

He felt a slight change in the atmosphere, and the chatter around him stopped. The machines came to a halt so he finished up what he was doing and looked up to see Kurt with a tray full of bottles of water, not even looking at him.

“Thought you boys could do with some hydration. Don’t want you all burning up out here.”

Everyone clearly approved. Jeff tossed his shovel to the ground without a second thought.

“Oh, shit, perfect. Thanks, dude.”

Kurt swallowed his wince at the familiarity and beamed at everyone, handing out drinks.

“So, how’s it all going out here? It’s moving pretty fast from what I can see.”

It was bizarre that he should be such a natural with them. It took Blaine weeks to build up to this level of conversation with the older guys, but from the way they were all grinning Kurt was clearly in with them after six seconds. They were almost all straight; how dare they steal his attention? Blaine frowned before realising he was probably doing this on purpose.

“Oh, you know,” Thad answered with a nonchalant tip of his hard hat, “this is a pretty standard job for us. S’no biggie.”

Kurt smiled and gave a small laugh. It wasn’t exaggerated or pandering, but light and easy. It was almost musical.

“Well, you’re doing a better job than I would! Mind you, I don’t know if any of you could bring these drinks out with quite as much style as I do.”

They all laughed. Surely on his own territory, Blaine would have the advantage, but Kurt was twisting them around his little finger.

“You’ve got a point there,” part-Cherokee Steve chuckled along with him, “but it’s easy when you’re inside with air con all day.”

Kurt laughed again, and Blaine found himself staring as he smiled. It actually looked genuine. His nose was wrinkled, and his shoulders were shaking just enough for it to be believable. He tucked the tray under his arm, pressing the remaining bottle of water against his cheek. He closed his eyes just for a moment, so quickly Blaine almost mistook it for a blink, but he saw him inhale with it, his chest rising softly. Blaine raised an eyebrow when he realised there was tone and definition hidden under that polo, and he had a sudden desperate urge to see it.

“Ugh, this feels amazing.”

Blaine started to wonder if this little display was for his benefit, when Kurt sauntered over, rolling his hips with ease.

_He’s stolen my walk._

“Hi.”

No, no, no, he was supposed to be much better than that.

“Just one left. All for you.”

“Uhm… thanks. That’s really, um,” he took the bottle, the one that had just been pressed against Kurt’s cheek, the one he was weirdly jealous of, and fumbled with the cap. “That’s nice. You didn’t have to.”

Kurt smiled. It wasn’t coy or wildly flirtatious. It was just… beautiful. He shrugged his broad shoulders, which looked strong and firm despite being disguised by the shirt. The sun hit his skin, making it almost luminous. His face was dotted with freckles, and there were a couple of subtle streaks of blonde at the front of his hair. As if he didn’t look good enough in the artificial strip lighting of the store, he was practically ethereal in sunlight. Blaine did everything he could to ignore Nick and Jeff in the background, making lewd grinding movements and kissy faces. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or defend Kurt’s honour or just shake his head at how wrongly they were doing everything. Straight boys could be so hopeless.

“It’s nothing. We’ve got a whole store full of drinks; I figured it couldn’t hurt to keep you guys cool.”

Blaine suddenly felt too cool. Kurt was a fresh breeze, and he almost knocked Blaine over. He forgot about his skin burning, and felt horribly exposed and completely vulnerable to him. He’d never been so conscious of his nipples. Kurt took the bottle from him, popped the cap off and took a glug. He tilted his head back, showing off his pale, slender neck, and Blaine stared powerlessly at his Adam’s apple as it bobbed in his throat. Kurt smiled again and handed it back.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Blaine held the bottle in front of his chest. As much as he’d wanted to show himself off, he felt like Kurt was laughing at him. He couldn’t play the usual banter in front of his workmates. He took a swig of water, all too aware that his mouth was exactly where Kurt’s had been a second ago. He let out a hum of satisfaction before he could stop himself, and wanted to bury himself in the dirt they’d just dug up. Did he just make some kind of sex noise?

Kurt was still grinning away at him, and he couldn’t tell if it was a smirk or a laugh or a genuine smile. He noticed him glancing down at his torso, and even though he knew he had a nice stomach, Blaine wished he could hide it away.

“You know, you should probably be more careful with your skin. If you stay out here dressed like that, you’ll be burnt in no time. Enjoy the water.”

Kurt felt extremely satisfied with himself as he spun around and strolled back towards the shop, remembering after a couple of steps to insert the not-so-subtle hip swing. He allowed himself a glance back over his shoulder to see Blaine watching him leave, looking lost while the others got back to work. He flicked his head away again, clenching his fist in triumph. 

As soon as he was back inside and out of earshot, the entire team outside, both the guys from school and the grown men who’d been doing this for years, began whooping and cheering at him. Only Sebastian kept working, as much as he ever did. Jeff’s dad knew his parents, and they’d been convinced that a bit of honest work would sort out his attitude. It simply transferred it. The others had tried to include him all year, but he refused to play along. Some of the crap he’d tried to pull with the Warblers that year left him more excluded than ever, and now he had to spend every day watching them joke around while he did work he deemed beneath him.

Blaine was too busy blushing to notice him.

“Shut _up_ , you guys…”

“Oh man, he likes you; you should ask him out.”

“Whatever. He’s okay.”

“Are you kidding me? He’s like, the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen. If you don’t ask him out, I will.”

Blaine gave Jeff a playful shove, putting a lot more force into it than he’d meant to.

“Hey, you’ve got a girlfriend!”

“I knew it. You’re jealous. Ask him.”

Blaine tried to convince himself that he had some kind of plan, but he was stuck. When the hell did that boy get so cool? He looked through the window to see Kurt doing… was that the Single Ladies dance? He was leaning forward, pumping his fists in time then standing with his hands on his hips as they rotated ( _wow, how can a human being do that?_ ) before throwing his hands up and bumping hips with the girls. It turned into something more _Crazy In Love_ , hips and chests wiggling in sync. They all jumped, presumably having been told to get back to work, and he hopped behind the counter again.

Maybe ‘cool’ was the wrong word.

But the boy could move.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine had always thought construction was the most tiring job he’d ever had. He’d never tried to do it whilst distracted by an attractive shop boy before. Everything he tried to focus on, there was Kurt, reaching for a high shelf and stretching his arm and back and sticking his ass out, or charming some customer the same way he had the crew, smiling and laughing. That laugh was still playing on repeat in his head, even though he’d only heard it for a couple of seconds.

“Blaine, heads up!”

“What?”

Jeff hadn’t exactly thrown it, but he probably should have made sure he had Blaine’s full attention before passing him a cinder block.

“FUCK!”

“What? Oh, Blaine, dude, sorry; I thought you were ready-”

He ran over to lift the block off Blaine’s hand, which was already bright red and throbbing furiously.

“ _Fuckfuckfuck_ …”

Nick pushed through to see what the drama was about.

“Jeff, what the hell did you do?”

“Nothing, I just thought he, oh man, I’m really sorry, here let me-”

Blaine jerked his hand away.

“Don’t you dare! Oh, fuck, this really hurts…”

Jeff’s dad, the only reason they were all employed, stepped in to get a closer look.

“Okay, calm down. Jeff, go and do something on your own before you land me with a lawsuit. Blaine, go inside and wait for Seb. He’s the only first-aider we’ve got today and God knows he’s less than useless out here; I’ll send him in for you.”

Blaine hoped against hope that nobody called his mother as he skulked inside. He didn’t know what it was about Sebastian that bothered him. Maybe it was his determination to be the alpha gay at Dalton. Maybe it was the repeated attempts at seducing him with arrogant smirks and self-aggrandisement. Probably the fact that he was kind of an asshole, but that seemed too obvious. Blaine was so distracted by the pain in his hand that he didn’t realise who he was going to have to see again as soon as he got inside. Kurt smiled at him, until he saw his hand and gasped. He forgot about the man who was trying to pay for his fuel and hopped out from behind the counter.

“Oh my God, Blaine, are you okay?”

So much for playing it cool.

“Oh, it’s nothing; honestly, you didn’t have to leave the-”

“I’ve got it,” Santana blurted out, hopping up to cover the register. “You know, Kurt’s got full first aid training. If you need it.”

Kurt blushed and smiled, and suddenly Blaine’s hand didn’t feel quite so painful.

“I think my boss is sending somebody in. I’ll just wait for him.”

Kurt had to look away from Blaine’s face, so embarrassed and scared and adorable, and turned his attention to his injury. He took Blaine’s arm carefully, cradling his hand, making sure he didn’t twist his wrist too roughly.

“I don’t know if this can wait. Come on; I can at least get some ice on it. We’re not busy.”

Blaine glanced at the long queue coming from the counter and smiled when Rachel jumped in next to Santana, making sure Kurt was free to help him.

“Thanks,” he said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. He couldn’t manage anything witty or suggestive when his hand was in so much pain, and when Kurt was being so unbelievably gentle.

They went into the back room and Kurt told him to wait for a second while he disappeared into the stock freezer. It felt wrong being out here, surrounded by food and drinks that had yet to go on the shelves. It was like he’d been given some kind of backstage pass, allowed to see the secrets nobody else got to. He told himself that he was being stupid, but his senses were lost somewhere between the raging heat in his hand and the cool air of the shop and the ghostly trace of Kurt’s hands on him. He stroked his wrist absent-mindedly, unsure if Kurt was still there or not, only to give a yelp of pain when it hurt a lot more when he touched it than when Kurt had.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Kurt was rushing out with a huge bag of ice. 

“No, no, I just, uh, bumped it on something. It’s fine.”

He wanted Kurt to smile again, certain that would make him feel better, but he still looked concerned. He ushered Blaine over to the staff break area, which was basically a table with two stools, and made him sit down while he slashed the bag open and wrapped some ice in a cloth. He brought it back to Blaine, picking his hand up again and resting it on the ice pack. His hands were cool and even softer from the freezer, and Blaine wished he could just be wrapped in Kurt instead.

“Can you move it at all?”

Blaine flexed his fingers slightly, wincing as he did it.

“It hurts.”

“Poor baby,” a flicker of a smile appeared on Kurt’s face, but it was full of care rather than laughing at him. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but you probably shouldn’t do any more work today. Couple of days without straining it too much and you’ll be fine. The perils of working somewhere so dangerous, huh?”

Blaine blushed.

“It’s not the job so much as the co-workers. My friend, Jeff, he, um- he dropped a block on it.”

Part of Kurt wanted to laugh and make fun of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Maybe we can think of a cooler story. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Blaine could only manage a shy smile.

“Thanks, Kurt. It feels better already.”

Kurt shrugged, smiling properly again. Blaine wanted to say something else, but his mind only got as far as ‘gosh, you’re attractive’ when they heard a throat clear in the doorway.

“Andy told me there was an emergency. I didn’t realise you two were on a secret date back here. Sorry for interrupting.”

Kurt didn’t even turn around.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t think it counts as a date if one of us gets a staff discount on anything we use.”

Blaine grinned. Sebastian didn’t. He walked over to the table and stood between them, grabbing Blaine’s hand to inspect Kurt’s handiwork. Blaine sucked in a breath and clapped his good hand over his mouth to hold in a shout. He didn’t know a lot about healthcare, but he was sure this wasn’t the way to treat an injured hand.

“Well, if you want to get back to work, I can take it from here. You’re not the only one who knows how to operate a bag of ice.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. He supposed that was meant to be an insult, but knocking his ice-packing skills didn’t exactly hit him where it hurt. He just about managed not to burst out laughing.

“Right, of course. Just thought I’d do what I could. I’ll leave him in your capable hands.” Blaine’s eyes widened with panic. _Please not him; I want to be in **your** hands._ “Blaine, I hope you didn’t have any hand-centric activities planned for this evening?”

Blaine’s cheeks went as red as his hand. Sebastian rolled his eyes. These two were ridiculous.

“No, thanks, I… I should be fine. Thanks again.”

Kurt’s smile was unstoppable, even when confronted by Sebastian. He was meant to be flustered and giggly, not capable and caring and completely self-assured. Blaine just wanted to spend the day being looked after by the boy with the light streaks in his hair and the strong arms and the soft hands, but now Kurt was gone and he was stuck with Sebastian, who seemed to be taking his bad mood out on Blaine’s hand. As Kurt disappeared, the pain flooded back.

“You should watch out for him, you know.”

“Oh, I know… wait, what? Ow! You do know that’s the part that’s injured, right? You’re not here to see how far you can bend it!”

“Don’t be such a baby.” How was it so much nicer when Kurt called him that? “I’m just warning you. I’ve heard about that guy. Warblers stick together, right? Somebody’s got to look out for you.”

Blaine pulled his hand away from Sebastian.

“You know what? I think I can take care of myself.”

“Suit yourself. You’re just gonna get hurt.”

“I’m already hurt. Tell Andy I’ve gone home, will you?”

Sebastian shrugged and walked out, leaving Blaine alone in the stock room. He tried to ignore what Sebastian had said. He always tried to stir things up when he was bored. Even if there was something behind it, he didn’t really care. Kurt could have had the worst reputation in the city, but it wouldn’t change the way he’d held his hand. It wouldn’t change that smile.

He waited for a couple of minutes, breathing deeply and letting the ice numb his hand, before unwrapping it and heading back into the shop. He fished his card out of his pocket (of course it was in the pocket by his bad hand) and waited patiently for Kurt to serve the man in front of him, with what seemed like a dozen children. Kurt had them eating out of his hand just as he had the little girl a couple of days earlier. Blaine smiled as he watched him work, each child saying please and thank you, and felt flustered when it was his turn to talk to him.

“How’s the wound?” Kurt smiled at him, the raised platform behind the counter doing nothing for their height difference. “More importantly, how’s that guy? Does he have some kind of problem?”

“He’s a long story. Could I get thirty dollars on seven?”

Kurt raised one eyebrow.

“I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Please?”

“Much better. Wait, can you manage? With the-” he nodded at Blaine’s hand.

“Oh. I hadn’t really thought about it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I only need one hand for that.”

“Sure, then you’ll leave the cap off and I’ll have to run after you. No chance. This is what I meant before, Blaine. I asked if you had any plans for your hand. I hope you weren’t thinking of anything _rude_.” He swiped Blaine’s card, his eyes sparkling playfully. “Can you sign-” Blaine held up his hand, still stiff. “Right. I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m appalled. That’s fraud.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes. Please. Thank you. Sir.”

“Is ‘sir’ too much? No, actually, I like it. Let’s go.”

He put Rachel back on the register to go outside with Blaine, who somehow managed to manoeuvre his car up to the pump with a little guidance from Kurt.

“Sweet ride, man.”

They both looked down at the powder blue blob on wheels Blaine had inherited from his aunt.

“Very funny. It doesn’t matter; I’m giving it to my little sister soon. I don’t need a car for college.”

Kurt swatted Blaine’s hand away so he could unscrew the cap and thrust the pump into the car. Their minds were racing, but they kept the conversation clean.

“Oh, right, New York. You seem eager to bring that up again.”

Blaine looked at his feet and leaned against the car.

“Well, I don’t know anybody else who’s going. It might be nice to see a friendly face.”

“Since when are we friends?”

Blaine looked back up at Kurt’s face, taking a detour to glance at his arm and the flexing muscles shifting under his skin as he squeezed the trigger.

“Just since you lovingly caressed my hand in your secret lair.”

“I’d hardly call it a _lair_ \- wait, did you say lovingly?”

“No.”

“It’s not my fault my hands are really soft. I’m just good at first aid. It doesn’t mean I’m trying to-”

“No, sure, sure. Enough about your attempts to seduce me; got any plans for the weekend?”

“I was not seducing- ugh. Forget it. Actually, I’m going out with the girls tonight.”

“No way! So am I- well, with the guys.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes.

“Seriously? Don’t tell me; you just _happen_ to be going to Raw?”

“Yes. That’s been my plan all week. I mean, I’ve never heard of Raw, and the others don’t know we’re going out yet, but I totally didn’t just decide because of you.”

“Uh-huh. And you’re definitely not stalking me.”

“Me? No way.”

The machine clicked behind them. He replaced the nozzle on its stand and screwed the fuel cap back onto the car.

“Well, sir, I’m glad I could be of assistance. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

Blaine smiled, his eyes drifting to Kurt’s ass as he walked away. He suddenly realised he really had no idea where Raw was.

“Kurt, wait!”

He spun around to face Blaine, still smiling.

“Was there something else?”

“Well, I just thought as we’re friends now, I should probably have your number. You know, in case I need any more medical assistance.”

“That was lame.”

Blaine smirked.

“I know. So, can I have it?”

Kurt stuck his hand out and Blaine passed him his phone. With a few taps on the screen, he’d put his number in.

“Should I call you? Just so you have mine too?”

“You can’t use cell phones out here. The whole place will explode.”

“Is that what they tell you in training?”

“My training probably saved your hand today; you should be grateful. Call me if you get lost tonight, while you’re in the middle of plans you’ve _totally_ had all week.”

Blaine waited to get in his car, slipping his phone back in his pocket and running his good hand through his hair as he watched Kurt walk away. Kurt grinned and wandered back inside slowly, knowing full well that Blaine would be watching him. He had to talk to the girls and tell them they had plans tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

“Tell me I look fabulous.”

“Do I have to say fabulous? It’s kinda gay.”

Kurt gave Santana a shove.

“Rachel. Please.”

“Kurt, you look sensational. I promise.”

“Yes. Yes I do. Thanks.”

Santana prodded him.

“Not that you care or anything.”

“Ew, no. Shut up.”

He glanced around the corner again, ignoring the group of boys except Blaine. Santana rolled her eyes at him.

“Now, I don’t want to suggest anything too crazy… but have you thought about going in?”

“We are in.”

“But maybe somewhere they can see us? I know it’s been a while since I’ve dealt with boys, but unless there have been some big changes in the last couple of years, I think making some actual contact would be a good start.”

“She’s right, Kurt. We can’t leave him waiting there, poor thing. Besides, his friends are kind of cute.”

Santana wrinkled her nose. Kurt swallowed.

“Fine. One more minute, and we make our entrance.”

Blaine was struggling to keep everyone patient.

“I’m telling you; they’re going to be here!”

“I thought you had his number? Why can’t you just-”

He wasn’t going to call him until later, just as they were walking away from each other, and he was going to tell him about the hot guy he’d just met in a club, and maybe how he’d made out with him a lot, and how much he wanted to see him again, and it was going to be completely dorky in a cute kind of way and then Kurt would laugh and… Blaine hadn’t thought much further than that, because every time he remembered Kurt’s laugh his head went fuzzy, but it was going to be perfect. 

“No. They’ll be here any second.”

The Warblers weren’t very good at clubbing. Their expensive education didn’t include any lessons on how to be cool, or how to dance, or how to talk to girls. They had ended up, as usual, sitting at a table in the corner, bobbing their heads in perfect time as they sipped their beer. They’d lost Sebastian a while ago, and nobody minded. They’d only invited him to be polite, and if he wanted to disappear with some stranger then they weren’t going to argue.

Blaine’s knee was twitching. He’d only had a couple of drinks, but his chest felt warm and his head was spinning slightly. He knew it was just nerves rather than alcohol. Even he wasn’t that much of a lightweight. He stood up as three people walked (or, more accurately, strutted) onto the dance floor, hands linked and hips swaying, and everything suddenly became crystal clear. The other guys’ mouths fell open as they stared at the girls, one petite brunette in a dark green dress, a Hispanic girl in impossibly tiny shorts and a red shirt that accentuated her flat stomach and impressive cleavage.   
They’d had minimal contact with any girls all through school, and these two weren’t exactly easing them into the experience.

Blaine stared helplessly at the boy in between them. He’d transformed since that afternoon. He was wearing tight, really tight, white jeans tucked into long black boots that hugged his calves and a dark blue shirt, short sleeves straining around his biceps as he lifted the shorter girl up in time with the music. The shirt was fitted to show off every curve in his torso. He was wearing a scarf, white with a black print, tied to one side and tucked neatly under the collar. It seemed to point down, leading Blaine towards the pale, smooth skin behind the fabric. He pictured the chest, the collarbones, even the ribcage under that material, all perfect, all hidden. It was torture just looking at him. Blaine tried to will his own mouth to close, but he’d lost all control over his expression.

Kurt pulled Santana close and whispered in her ear, still not having looked at Blaine and the others.

“Is he looking?”

She glanced past Kurt to see Blaine, awestruck, in dark jeans and a snug violet polo shirt (and – was that… a bowtie?), swallowing as he tried to take in the sight in front of him.

“He can’t seem to stop. See for yourself.”

She twirled him around and gave him a nudge in Blaine’s direction. He spun a little more than he’d meant to, and the boys’ respective groups of spectators looked on in amusement as they collided. Blaine caught Kurt with his good hand and they could barely stay upright with the force of the crash, but Blaine’s grip was firm and Kurt’s body was pressed right against his and there was no way he was letting him fall. Kurt spoke loudly to make up for the noise, but Blaine would have heard him anyway.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I guess so.” He chose not to mention the fact that he’d actually been around the corner spying on them for ten minutes. “How’s the hand?”

Blaine grinned.

“Much better, thanks to you.”

Kurt’s hands made their way from Blaine’s chest up to his shoulders. He gave a small shrug and a big smile.

“It’s been said that my fingers can do magical things.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know whether to be overwhelmed or turned on or a little scared. He heard a cough behind him. They glanced past each other to see their friends waiting expectantly.

“We should probably, uh-”

Kurt nodded.

“Way ahead of you.”

Half an hour later, it would have been impossible to tell that they’d started off as separate groups. Rachel was dancing with Nick, twirling in his arms and whispering in his ear as he smiled in a daze, stroking her hair and contemplating sliding his hand from her waist to her ass. Santana waggled a finger at him and he thought better of it.

The other guys finally got the guidance they so badly needed. Jeff made a misguided attempt at kissing Santana, but she groaned in exasperation and decided to take them all under her wing. She spotted straight girls they had a chance with, talked to them about ‘the hottie at the bar who told me he thought you were cute’, and told them how to behave properly. Soon enough she and Trent were the only ones who hadn’t been paired off and they spent the rest of the evening dancing, joking, and admiring her work. 

No matter how much action any of the guys were getting, their gaze would always drift back to Kurt and Blaine. Despite the throbbing bass and heaving dance floor, they stayed together, Blaine holding Kurt’s waist while Kurt’s arms were draped over his shoulders. Occasionally they would break apart for a spin, but every time they pulled together again.

“You look really good.”

“Thanks. I figured the first time you see me out of uniform, I should make sure I looked decent. Not that I made an effort.”

Blaine grinned.

“Oh, of course not. Me neither.”

“It shows.”

Blaine gasped in mock distress.

“What? Please don’t tell me you don’t like bowties, or this is never going to-”

Kurt pulled Blaine towards him, so close their noses were almost touching. They both wanted their smiles to cool down, maybe making it slightly less obvious how much fun they were having, but they were way past nonchalance now.

“I think I just liked you better shirtless.”

Blaine’s grin widened.

“Mmm. I guess you’ll have to hope it’s hot on Monday.”

Kurt leaned forward until Blaine could feel his breath on his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Are you really going to make me wait until Monday?”

Blaine hoped Kurt hadn’t noticed him gulp, but from the way Kurt’s body was trembling as he giggled lightly in his ear, he realised it had probably been more obvious than he would have liked.

“I guess you don’t have to- um- no?”

Kurt leaned his hips forward, but drew his shoulders back so he could look into Blaine’s eyes. They were still shining, no matter how dark the club was. He moved his arms, stroking Blaine’s biceps before cupping his face with both hands. He felt Blaine’s hands grip onto the small of his back, locking them together. The cool skin on his cheeks stopped Blaine feeling flustered and embarrassed and nervous, calming him completely. He didn’t have to think about what he was going to do next or how far anything might go or what would happen when they both left Ohio. All he had to do, all he was capable of doing was staring straight back into the blue eyes that were inches from his own. 

Kurt gave them both a second to enjoy the closeness, the way their bodies were slotted together, still swaying ever so slightly in time, holding onto each other as if separation would be unbearable. He smiled at Blaine, who gulped again. He didn’t laugh at him this time.

“It’s okay.”

“What is?”

“Everything.”

Blaine smiled back, and Kurt leaned in, pressing their lips together. 

Everything slowed down. There were no tongues shoved down throats, no obscene groans; they couldn’t even hear the music anymore. It faded to a dull thrumming as all they could hear were their heartbeats pounding in their ears. They felt their pulses quicken and their chests tightening, filling with warmth that spread through their bodies as their minds clouded over. They’d both had enough to drink to feel the room spin, but as they let themselves be enveloped by each other, everything outside their bubble was black. Instead of the usual imbalance and dizziness, they felt as if they were floating, their bodies radiating heat as they tried to step closer even though they were as tightly tangled together as possible. Kurt felt things he’d never even considered before; Blaine’s nose nudging his cheek, his hand flat and warm against his back, steadying him, anchoring him. He stroked Blaine’s cheek with his thumb before moving his hand back to run his fingers through his hair. As they kept kissing, they both started to smile, blissfully unaware of their friends watching them.

Santana and Trent howled in encouragement, running to the bar for a celebratory tequila shot. Rachel sighed happily and nuzzled against Nick’s chest. He would have been jealous of the boys for getting more action than him, had it not been for how nice her hair smelled. The other Warblers pointed Kurt and Blaine out to their respective dance partners, each claiming to have helped make it happen, but they all regretted it when the girls were too busy swooning over the adorable gay guys to pay them any more attention. Kurt and Blaine were oblivious to all of them, completely lost in each other.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both grinning.

“That was-”

“Mmhmm-”

They kissed again, establishing a stronger rhythm, and Kurt’s hand slid down Blaine’s back just as Blaine started kissing his neck. He did his best not to melt on the spot despite being bombarded by both the mouth humming into his skin and the soft curve under his fingertips. He was just gasping into Blaine’s ear when they heard “spin me!” and Rachel crashed into them.

They finally broke apart, trying to get their breath back. They caught Rachel before she twirled into the wall, and she was giggling to herself.

“He spun me… Look at his hair…”

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was on the verge of laughter, and at Nick, who simply looked confused.

“Yes, sweetie, his hair is lovely. Are you okay?”

Rachel closed her eyes and leaned into Kurt, stroking his chest.

“I’m wonderful, Kurt. And you’re wonderful. And Blaine’s wonderful.” Nick seemed a little hurt not to have been given a mention, until she opened her eyes and mumbled “and so is he. Hair. Mmm.”

She began to slide down against Kurt’s body, so he hoisted her up, balancing her haphazardly on his hip. Blaine helped get her on her feet. Kurt smiled at him.

“I think I’d better get her home.”

“No!” Santana marched up, lifting Rachel up and throwing her over her shoulder. “I’ve got this! You boys get back to business.” Rachel looked down at Kurt, confused and distressed.

“Kurt, who’s carrying me? Where am I going? I want to stay with you!”

Kurt glanced from Rachel to Blaine, who was smiling, dizzy from kissing but also hugely entertained by the tiniest drunk he’d ever seen. Kurt shrugged apologetically.

“I don’t really want to let them go without me. Tana can be a little… It might get weird. She’s either gonna punch her on hit on her and either way it’ll make work really uncomfortable and-”

Blaine kissed him again, more briefly, and Kurt automatically tried to follow him when he inched away. They were further apart, but their hands were linked clumsily together.

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole world fell apart without you.”

Kurt knew he should have been rolling his eyes at the cheesiness, but instead he tightened his grip on Blaine’s hand. He smiled and turned to go after the girls, dragging Blaine out with him. The other guys followed, giving up on girls for the night and deciding to reach for the more attainable goal of food. Blaine barely felt the cool air hit his skin as he watched Kurt get into a cab with the girls. Rachel took some coaxing, threatening to make a run for it back to Nick, the new love of her life, but Santana carried her to the taxi. She struggled until she was passed over to Kurt, who shushed her calmly, well-practised in the art of looking after her after a few drinks. He lowered her into the cab and kissed her hair, and she nuzzled up to him, smiling and sleepy. Blaine smiled as Kurt nursed her as carefully and expertly as he did his hand earlier. Part of him wanted Kurt to look back and smile at him one more time, but he clearly had enough on his hands. 

He took a deep breath and turned to go back to the others as they went on a hunt for pizza or fries or whatever they could get their hands on, only to be confronted by Sebastian. He lost his balance, startled by how close he was, but Sebastian grabbed his wrist to stop him falling. He gave a shout of pain as his bad hand was squeezed and pulled up, and he pushed Seb away. It hadn’t hurt all night, but now that Kurt was gone he couldn’t ignore the sting.

“Oh my God, Blaine, are you really so drunk that you can’t even stand up? I’m trying to help you-”

“I don’t want your help. What are you going to tell me this time? Let me guess; Kurt’s a murderer, or he’s got some hideous disease, or he’s a spy? Yeah, that’d be cool; he’s working for the government to make out with construction workers so he can infiltrate Andy’s company? I’m all ears, Sebastian!”

“Blaine, I just-”

“Just what? What?”

Blaine didn’t notice Kurt looking at him as the cab drove past. There was still too much alcohol in his system to let him react when Sebastian kissed him.

Everything happened too quickly. Sebastian’s hands, Kurt’s face falling, Santana shouting obscenities from the window as they drove away, and they were gone before Blaine could push Seb off.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on, Blaine, you can’t have been serious about the shop boy. Listen. You know this game you’ve been trying to play all year? I’m better at it than you. You’ve made your point with the little porcelain doll over there, but you can stop playing around now.”

He tried to kiss him again, but Blaine ducked out of the way, leaving Seb kissing empty air. He spun around, straightening his shirt.

“Are you deaf? I’m. Not. Interested. I was kissing that guy because I like him. And I don’t like you. I thought I’d finally got away from you when we graduated, then you show up at work with us, and now this? You can play whatever games you want; I’m sure you’re great at them. Leave me out of it.”

Blaine followed the sound of the guys’ laughter to an all-night diner down the block. Sebastian scowled as he watched him leave.


	5. Chapter 5

“I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to show up today. Like he’s done nothing wrong. What a tool.”

Kurt sighed heavily, trying not to look outside. It was still unbearably hot, but he was practically shivering.

“Can we please not talk about it? It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything; he can kiss who he wants.”

“Oh, please! You’re not just going to let him get away with this?”

“With what? He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s fine. We kissed. They kissed. He didn’t promise me anything.”

Rachel looked ready to burst into tears.

“But why did he have to do it in front of you?”

“He didn’t know we were watching.”

“I don’t care.” Santana shoved handfuls of food onto a shelf, knocking off half of what was already there. “I’m pissed at him. He led you on. It’s not cool.”

“Whatever. Can one of you take over? I don’t really feel like talking to people today.”

Rachel nodded, kissing him on the cheek and giving his wrist a squeeze as he slunk off into the stockroom. It only made things worse. She wasn’t the one he wanted kissing him. In spite of everything, he still wanted Blaine.

Outside, things were tense.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been inside yet today. Are you scared you’ll never come back out?” Jeff asked with a nudge. He noticed how quiet Blaine was. “Is everything okay? Did you talk over the weekend?”

Blaine shook his head.

“I called a couple times. He didn’t pick up.”

Sebastian snorted.

“If you want my opinion,” they all rolled their eyes; nobody ever wanted his opinion, “he’s probably bored of you already.”

“Drop it, Sebastian. I’m even less in the mood for your crap now than I was on Friday.”

The others glanced between the two of them.

“What happened on Friday?” Nick jabbed Thad in the ribs. “Ow! What? We were all wondering.”

“You could have at least tried to be subtle. So, Blaine… What did happen on Friday?”

They all wanted to roll their eyes, but they were intrigued. Blaine paused. He knew telling them would stop any work from getting done, but they weren’t exactly being productive anyway. He looked at Seb, and that defiant smirk made him want everyone to know what he was like.

“Sebastian kissed me.”

The whole crew, warblers and adults alike, stopped what they were doing and glared at him.

“You did what?” Jeff shouted. “After he’d just got it together with Kurt?”

“Together? He’s not even talking to him. I probably did you a favour, Blaine. You’re better off without him. Everybody knows he’s a slut.”

Blaine dropped the shovel he’d been using to nudge the dirt for half an hour, and lunged at Sebastian, shoving him until he almost lost his balance. 

“Don’t you even talk about him-”

“Did you really think anybody would talk to you like that, look at you like that, if it wasn’t for a joke? He’s been whoring around all summer, Blaine, he’s not suddenly going to be your boyfriend!”

“You’ve been whoring around your whole life! That’s not why I pushed you away, Seb; I didn’t want to kiss you because you’re a douchebag and I’d rather never see him again than be with you for another minute.”

Sebastian’s smirk faltered, but only for a second.

“Fine. Be with him, if he’ll have you. I just hope you don’t catch anything.”

Blaine’s eyes darkened and he pushed him again, but Sebastian swung at him, his fist colliding with his lip. Blaine crashed to the ground and Nick and Jeff rushed to help him up, while Andy stormed over to yell at Sebastian.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at? Get off my site!”

“What? He started it-”

“Oh, really? Well, he’s the one on the floor, and you’re the one who hasn’t done a lick of work since you’ve been here. I’ll call you parents and let them know you won’t be needed tomorrow.” Sebastian scowled and threw his hat on the ground before skulking off. “You okay, Blaine? Are you hurt?”

Blaine smiled, splitting his lip further and wincing.

“No, not really, I’ll be fine. I just… wanna go inside for a second. Is that okay?”

Andy raised an eyebrow for a second and nodded slowly.

“Right. Maybe somebody can put some ice on it.” Blaine glanced at Jeff, who was blushing. Of course he’d told him. “Go get him, champ.”

Blaine tried to ignore the dozen pairs of eyes on him as he wandered inside to see Kurt at the end of the aisle, bending down to put cartons of milk in rows on a shelf. Even though they hadn’t spoken since Friday, he couldn’t help smiling at his ass, in black, snug jeans instead of the work trousers from before. Presumably to show Blaine what he was missing. They were doing their job.

“Well, that’s a sight for a sore lip.”

Kurt stood abruptly, turning to face Blaine to revoke his ass-ogling privileges, seeing him covered in dry dirt with a bloody lip.

“That’s not the expre- oh god, what happened?”

As much as he wanted to stand firm and show Blaine that he didn’t care who he kissed, he couldn’t stop himself from sweeping forward to inspect the injury. He took Blaine’s chin in his hands, tilting his head so he could look properly.

“Sebastian happened.”

Kurt dropped him immediately.

“Oh. Sebastian. The one you were making out with on Friday. Well if you guys had a fight, it’s really none of my business-”

He turned back to the milk, picking up a carton and pretending to check the date on it. Blaine had to try not to laugh.

“Ohhh, _that’s_ what it was.”

“What?” Kurt snapped without turning around.

“That’s why you were ignoring me.”

“I don’t care enough to ignore you. I was just busy.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Yes, I’m mad! You kissed another guy, like, five seconds after you kissed me!” He heard Blaine snort and only resisted the urge to slap him because he’d been beaten to it. “Blaine, you better not be laughing at me!”

“I want to, but it hurts. Could you make me another ice pack? Our first aid guy’s been sent home.”

“You should know better than to bring your domestic disputes to work.”

“It was not a- please, Kurt. Just let me explain. Five minutes.”

Kurt turned around.

“ _Two_ minutes. Out the back.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow at the suggestion of another clandestine trip behind the scenes, and Kurt rolled his eyes, groaned and dragged him out. Blaine knew they hadn’t fixed anything yet, but just feeling Kurt’s hand around his again made him smile. It didn’t hurt anymore, but he wouldn’t have minded if it did.

Once they were in the warehouse, Kurt’s hand moved up to Blaine’s shoulder to guide him into a seat. Even when he was angry, the touch was soft and comforting. He sat opposite him, fixing him with what was supposed to be a cool glare. He couldn’t hide the concern in his eyes.

“Go.”

“No ice?”

“Depends how good your explanation is. Go.”

Blaine took a breath, huffing it out through his nose.

“Would it make a difference if I told you that he was the one who kissed me?”

“Not really.”

“What if I told you I pushed him off?”

“Is this a hypothetical scenario to gauge my response, or is that what happened?”

“That’s what happened. I pushed him off and told him to leave me alone, because I don’t like him. And kind of because I like you.”

Kurt took a slow breath. He silenced the voice in his head screaming ‘he likes me!’ and tried to concentrate. His head tilted in apprehension.

“Slightly better. Why’d he hit you?”

“Because I pushed him.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted forward.

“And why did you push him?”

Blaine paused. He’d have rather wiped that part from his memory.

“Because he was… saying stuff about you.”

“What stuff?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Blaine cracked his knuckles and stared at the table. Kurt rolled his eyes.

“What stuff, Blaine? I can take it, okay, I’m a grownup.”

“He called you a slut.”

Kurt’s smile faded abruptly and he straightened in his seat.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I’ve never been called a slut before. I don’t know how I’m supposed to react.”

“I wouldn’t recommend violence. Especially if you’re smaller than your opponent.”

Kurt smiled. Blaine mirrored it, only to hiss when his lip stung again. Kurt reached forward and stroked the swelling with the tip of his thumb. Blaine gazed at the concern in his eyes and felt instantly comforted.

“Hang on.” He disappeared with a cup and emerged seconds later, the cup full of clear cubes. “Hold still.” He plucked one from the top and held it up to Blaine’s lip. He used his other hand to cup Blaine’s cheek, eventually summoning the courage to look into his eyes.

“Thanks.”

Kurt hardened his face again, determined to clear everything up.

“You’re not done yet. Why did that annoy you?”

“What?”

“Say I am a slut. What difference does it make to you?”

Blaine frowned. It hadn’t just been the word; it was the way he said it, so full of venom as if he was better than Kurt. As far as Blaine was concerned right now, nobody was better than Kurt, least of all Sebastian.

“I don’t know.”

Kurt pulled away, taking the ice with him.

“So it bothered you? The idea of me sleeping around, that would… put you off?”

Blaine paused. Honestly, part of him had worried. It hadn’t put him off, but it freaked him out.

“No. If it had stopped me liking you, I wouldn’t have shoved him.”

“But?”

“But… It scared me.” 

Kurt frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Look, Kurt, you can do whatever you want. Whoever you want. It doesn’t change how smart you are, or how good your legs looked on Friday, or how pretty your laugh is,” Kurt blushed, “but I thought… I thought that if you can go from one guy to the next, what’s to stop you from doing that with me? I want- something with you. I don’t mean it has to be forever, but I don’t want it to be just another night. I want it to matter.”

Kurt smiled at the ice cube in his hand and lifted it up to Blaine’s lip again.

“That was a pretty good answer.”

“Well, that’s why I pushed Sebastian, even though it sounds stupid now. And that’s why my lip hurts, but it’s also why I’m here with you again, so it can’t be all bad.”

“I was starting to think you were injuring yourself on purpose.”

Blaine grinned, his lip numb with cold.

“It’s just a bonus.”

Kurt’s voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper.

“You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Blaine raised his hand to hold the one on his jaw.

“I did it for me. But I would have for you. I think I’d do anything for you.”

Kurt squeezed his hand gently and leaned forward until their noses brushed together. The atmosphere was anything but sexy. The lighting was harsh and there was no music, just the loud whirring of the air con and the gentle buzz of the freezer. The white walls were hidden by shelves full of cans, bottles and jars, and neither of them had any alcohol in their system to lower their inhibitions or friends cheering them on, but it didn’t make it any less magical for Blaine when Kurt kissed him again.

Their hands lowered to the table, linked together, while Blaine’s free hand found its way into Kurt’s hair, running through it slowly, letting his fingers be stroked by it and stroking it back. Kurt squeezed Blaine’s thigh, not caring that the dirt from his jeans was getting on his fingers. He felt his heart beating faster and warmth spreading through his chest and down into his fingertips, and neither of them flinched when he dropped the ice cube and it shattered on the floor. His skin prickled and he felt goose bumps pop up along his forearms, and as he raised his hand to hold onto Blaine’s arm, he realised his hairs were standing on end too. He smiled into Blaine’s mouth as a shiver ran down his spine.

Blaine hummed quietly, pulling back just enough for their lips to part without their noses separating. Their foreheads pressed together, and he gave Kurt another gentle kiss, unable to stop himself. He let out a gentle hiss as his lip thawed back into sensation. Kurt half-frowned, half-smiled, his brow furrowed.

“Is it okay?”

“It’s worth it.”

Kurt let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Good. If I had to stop until it healed-”

“Don’t even joke about it. Let’s go somewhere.”

Kurt shook his head, shaking Blaine’s with it. Blaine finally pulled away properly, his eyes widening at the idea of the impending loss.

“Don’t look at me like that; look at where we are. I’m working.”

“Can’t you leave early?”

“Nobody’s assaulted me. I’m here ‘til midnight.” Noticing Blaine’s eyebrow quirk, he added, “and no, I’m not getting beaten up just so I can leave, although I’m sure Santana would be glad to help. I don’t think I could pull off an injury quite like you.”

“I don’t know; I think you’d look rugged.”

“I’m just going to warn you now. I don’t really do rugged.”

Blaine shrugged and gave Kurt another peck.

“We’ll see. So, midnight. I’ll come and pick you up. Then we can go somewhere.”

“Perfect. I’ve always wanted to be swept off my feet in the middle of the night after a twelve hour shift for an evening out in my uniform.”

Blaine smirked, sure that those jeans weren’t regulation.

“We could just go back to my place. I can cook you something. Or, you know,” he kissed him again, “we could find something else to do.”

Kurt put his thumb on Blaine’s chin, holding him back so he couldn’t hurt his lip any more. And maybe to tease him. A tiny bit.

“Well, why don’t you go home and get some rest, and we’ll talk again at midnight.”

“How very Cinderella of us.”

“Except your car’s already a pumpkin.”

“Maybe the magic kicks in at midnight and it turns into something cooler.”

“I think we’re getting Cinderella wrong.”

“I only really watched that movie for the mice.”

“It was no Little Mermaid. Or Aladdin.”

Kurt sighed again and blushed slightly, and Blaine’s mouth fell open.

“You didn’t!”

“What?”

“You had a crush on Aladdin!”

“Did not-”

“Did so-”

“Clearly I have a thing for guys who show off their chests for no reason.”

“And I guess a tan doesn’t hurt.”

“Not everyone can pull off my complexion. But if you show up in a fez you can forget about kissing me again. Anyway, I have work to do. Go provoke somebody else into punching you.”

Kurt stood up and tried to haul Blaine out of his seat, only to slip on the puddle created by the forgotten ice cube. Blaine jumped up in time to catch him, putting both hands firmly on his waist. Kurt covered them with his own and kissed him before reaching up to drape his arms over Blaine’s shoulders, fitting them together like they had on Friday night.

“You did that on purpose.”

“You dropped the ice. Anyway, I think it was my turn to save you. Midnight?”

Kurt smiled.

“Midnight.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Think this fic has been a train-wreck so far? JUST WAIT.

Of course he was early. Kurt would have been disappointed if he hadn’t been a _little_ early, but an hour may have been pushing it, especially as he wasn’t allowed to let anyone in. As Blaine walked toward the door, Kurt tapped on the window and beckoned him over.

“We have to do it through here,” his voice rang out over the forecourt. When Blaine looked confused as he walked to the hatch, Kurt pointed at the microphone in front of him. “Everything goes through the hatch after ten.”

Blaine raised his eyebrows, looked at his crotch, then back up at Kurt. He pointed at the speaker below the window and Kurt nodded. He bobbed down slightly to make sure Kurt would hear him.

“Not to brag, but I don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

Kurt smirked.

“Well, it’s a good thing that wasn’t bragging, because it was awful. And you know what I meant. All transactions come- take place… through here.”

“Are you sure you can’t just leave? I don’t want to wait any more. I’ve waited, like, a week. Not that it isn’t just delightful talking to you, but I can’t kiss you through this.” 

He gave the glass two gentle taps, letting his finger hover against it. Kurt leaned his elbows on the counter, smiling at the way Blaine’s fingertip went white with the pressure. He lifted his own finger up to join it, both of them pressing together, and when he looked up at Blaine’s face, even prettier surrounded by darkness, he started to think maybe they could kiss through the glass. Maybe Blaine’s eyes were shiny enough to make it evaporate. He was on the verge of flying face first into the window, just on the off chance that he could kiss Blaine immediately, when he heard a smash. They both jumped and turned to see what was going on, leaving their fingers in place on the glass.

A man used the crowbar in his hand to smash through what was left of the door. His face was hidden under a hood, his mouth behind a scarf, and he started to make his way to the counter. Kurt had always assumed that he’d panic if this happened. He’d scream and beg for mercy and hide in a corner until it was all over, but he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. He took a deep breath, quickly pressed the panic button under the register, and raised his hands.

“Okay, sir, would you like to put that down? It’s a tiny store; we have, like, no cash, so just stay calm and-”

The man raised the crowbar. Kurt saw his hands trembling slightly. He’d been told that if anyone threatened him he was to give them what they wanted (‘it’s not worth the risk, sweetheart; just stay safe’), but this man posed no such threat. He was fairly small, especially from Kurt’s point of view, and he had a shaky grip and unruly eyebrows.

“Just, uh, gimme the money. Hand it over.”

Kurt was seconds away from collapsing into giggles at the man’s fingers slipping as he gripped the metal, when there was a blur of red, a shout and a thud. The sort-of criminal fell to the ground, revealing Blaine, eyes wide and breaths short, brandishing a fire extinguisher. They both looked down at the unconscious figure on the floor before looking at each other again.

“Blaine! What did you _do_?”

“I… saved you?”

“From some idiot trying to steal sixty bucks?”

“He had a crowbar-”

“I already called the police!”

“What?”

“Panic button. Down here.”

Blaine stood up on his toes to try and see where Kurt was pointing. He realised he may have been slightly dramatic.

“Fuck.”

“I can’t believe you hit him-”

“Fuck-”

“Blaine, you, you-”

Blaine realised he was still wielding the fire extinguisher over his head. It could have been the lighting, or the angle, or the adrenaline in Kurt’s veins, but the extinguisher seemed almost as big as Blaine, and Kurt darted out from behind the counter to help him lower it to the ground, automatically holding onto his arms.

“Fuck-”

“Your, uh, your arms are, um-”

Kurt was distracted by Blaine’s biceps as they flexed under his shirt and the quick movement of his chest as he got his breath back and the adorable look of concern and confusion on his face. Combined, they made him forget about the man on the floor.

“What?”

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s face and kissed him, clumsily pushing him into the shelves behind him and knocking the extinguisher over. Blaine barely had a chance to hold onto his waist, forgetting that his lip was supposed to be hurt. He heard things falling off the shelf behind him: candy bars, bags of chips, a bottle of coke that burst open and sprayed the floor. He made a muffled sound of apology but Kurt ignored it, eagerly pressing their lips together and tugging at Blaine’s shirt. Blaine’s protest became a gasp and, remembering the effect it had had the other night, he pushed back and started kissing Kurt’s neck. They lost their balance, stepping over the heap of food and person on the tiles and spinning into another aisle. Kurt groaned as Blaine sucked on the soft skin below his ear and was happy to be pushed against another shelf, sending yet more supplies cascading to the ground.

“Blaine- wait- stop- wine!”

Blaine laughed, sending a shiver vibrating over Kurt’s skin.

“Mmm, good idea. Red or white?”

Kurt tried to steer them in another direction, but it simply made them pirouette directly into the wine section.

“No, Blaine, behind you!”

There was an ear-splitting crash as what seemed like dozens of bottles (but was really only three) shattered on the floor.

“Oh, shit-”

Kurt knew he should have been annoyed at Blaine or himself or worried about his job, but the whole thing suddenly seemed hilarious. He heard a noise that sounded like the wicked witch of the west cackling, echoing through the store, before he realised it was coming from his own mouth. Blaine was dissolving into laughter, his head resting on Kurt’s shoulder as they both leaned against the now almost empty shelf. He reached back to grab a bottle of red.

“I guess one more can’t hurt, right?”

Blaine smirked at him, taking the bottle and unscrewing it. He took a glug and offered it to Kurt.

“Sir?”

Kurt fanned himself to try and cool off, before laying his hand on his chest and pretending to swoon, shoulders raised and eyelashes fluttering.

“ _Sir_! You remembered! Well, you sure know how to make a boy feel special!”

Blaine did a little bow to demonstrate how gentlemanly he could be, but one glance at the ground reminded him just how much of a mess they’d already made. He started laughing so hard he almost fell over, and had to take Kurt’s hand to steady himself. Kurt took a gulp of wine, struggling to swallow around his laughter, before yanking on Blaine’s hand to pull him in for another kiss. When they parted, Blaine’s eyes stayed closed as he savoured the taste of cheap wine and delicious boy.

“Should we try and clean up?”

“Probably. That damn thief’s made such a mess.”

“Scourge of society.” 

“Sickening. C’mon.”

Bottle still in his hand, he silently thanked his boss for delaying the CCTV installation and dragged Blaine into the back room. He quickly filled the mop bucket with hot water and handed Blaine the bottle. He grabbed the broom and mumbled something about sweeping up the glass before Blaine pounced on him again, planting wet kisses along his jaw.

“No, Blaine, you-” Kurt tried to stop him between gasps.

“We can do it later, it’s fi-”

Blaine didn’t realise that Kurt was in fact, rather than desperate to clean, warning him about the bucket of hot water that he was about to step into, which happened to be on wheels. It was incredibly useful for cleaning up spillages in the store; not ideal in the throes of passion. Kurt tried to grip onto Blaine’s shirt as he went flying, arms flailing, foot soaked and hot, into the wall. The bucket immediately skidded out from beneath him, covering the floor in soapy water and sending Blaine to the ground with a thud. He sat in the puddle, slumped against the wall, gasping for breath between laughs.

“I tried to tell you!” Kurt giggled, rushing to help him up. “Are you okay? Here, let me-”

Kurt hauled him to his feet, both of them slipping slightly in the suds. They finally stood facing each other, and their eyes locked for a second before they both burst out laughing. They smiled into more kisses, short and giggly and breathless.

“We can’t seem to get this right,” Blaine took a swig from the bottle he’d miraculously held onto, even though half of the contents had spilled out and were bleeding into the water. “I’d say something about getting out of these wet clothes, but I don’t wanna break anything else.” He rested his forehead against Kurt’s, giving him another kiss before leaning against the wall with a deep sigh. He winced at the contact. “Ah! Jesus, I’d forgotten about that.”

Kurt frowned.

“What?”

Blaine looked sheepish as he peeled off his shirt, the only piece of clothing on him that wasn’t soaked, revealing a very red back and shoulders.

“Don’t laugh…”

It was too late. Kurt’s hysterics continued.

“I knew it! I _knew_ you were gonna burn-”

“And I knew _you’d_ be an asshole about it-”

Kurt slapped his shoulder without thinking, making Blaine gasp somewhere between pain and laughter.

_“Oh-my-god-I’m-so-sorry-”_

“OW! I thought you were supposed to be first aid trained!”

“I’m sorry, but you, I – look at you!” Blaine glanced down at himself then back up at Kurt with a grin. “You’ve got a fucked up hand, a fat lip, sunburn and your skin must be scalding from all this water. You should be in hospital or something.”

“Can’t you kiss it better?”

“Really, Blaine? You want to risk doing more damage?” Blaine’s eyebrow quirked, a blatant _yes please_ , and Kurt rolled his eyes. “Come on; we’ve got something in the store.” He took Blaine’s hand again, walking him out of the stock room, flinching every time he almost lost his balance. Blaine clutched at the half-full (he was that kind of guy) bottle of wine as Kurt sat him behind the counter where he was less likely to hurt himself. Kurt paused, cupping Blaine’s jaw, stroking his cheek with his thumb and kissing his hair, before disappearing down one of the few aisles that didn’t look like a bomb had hit it. Blaine smiled to himself, glugging from the bottle happily as he surveyed what he could see of the mess they’d made. He felt bad, but at least it showed mutual enthusiasm.

Kurt reappeared, carrying a box of chocolates and waving a tube of cream at him.

“Aloe Vera. For your back.”

Kurt marched over, determined not to let Blaine distract him again, and spun him around on the stool before he could protest.

“Have I mentioned that I really love backrubs?”

Kurt giggled.

“Well, look at us bonding. I’m learning new things about you every day.”

Blaine sucked in a breath as Kurt started rubbing the cool lotion in circles on his shoulders. He only used two fingers at first, working up to long, smooth strokes with his palms, up and down and across his back. He realised his mind was wandering somewhere inappropriate (but they’d probably crossed that bridge a while ago) and tried to ignore the stirrings in his stomach as Kurt’s hands expertly soothed his skin. They were still so soft, so gentle, so loving, that Blaine was struggling not to melt into a puddle as big as the one he’d left out the back.

“So… what else have you learned about me?”

Kurt’s hands slowed down, circling the bumps of his spine. He’d covered all the burnt skin, but it was nice just touching Blaine, feeling the muscles shifting slightly under the skin, exploring the ridges of his shoulder blades. He started to massage the small of Blaine’s back, smiling as he edged further south than he needed to and Blaine straightened up abruptly with a poorly-concealed gasp.

“Well, you’re incredibly sensitive for a start.”

Blaine blushed and smiled.

“That doesn’t count; that’s just you. What else?”

He tried to turn to face Kurt, but his head was held still.

“Not yet, I’m not done. Okay… you’re the most accident-prone person I’ve ever met. But a pretty good kisser.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Let me think… you’re cocky.”

“I’d say it was justified-”

“And in doing so you’d prove me right. But you’re also funny. And sweeter than you think you are - and loyal, I guess. Even to people you barely know.”

Kurt’s hand left Blaine’s skin, letting him turn to see him sitting on the next stool, smiling as he plucked a chocolate from the box. Blaine opened his mouth automatically, and Kurt placed it on his tongue, letting it melt until the caramel swirled over his palate, sticking in the back of his throat. He took another sip of wine to wash it down.

“I don’t know if getting my ass kicked makes me that loyal. And I think I know you pretty well.”

Kurt tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Really? Enlighten me.”

He handed Blaine the box of chocolates, opening his mouth expectantly.

“Okay,” he popped a caramel into Kurt’s mouth slowly, smiling when he felt Kurt’s lips wrap around his fingers if only for a second. “You’re beautiful. But anyone who sees you knows that.”

Kurt shrugged, his mouth too full of goo to argue. 

“Mmm.”

“You have soft hands. You’re compassionate. You’re a lot funnier than I am, and so smart, and good with children. You like looking after people, even when they seem determined to hurt themselves.” Kurt had to cover his mouth so he didn’t spit the chocolate out when he laughed. “Your laugh is… nice. Really nice. It makes me forget what I’m doing. What was I doing?”

Kurt took the bottle from him to wash the caramel down.

“Telling me how great I am.”

“You’re great.”

“Mm-hmm. Want another one?” 

He nodded to the box of chocolates, and Blaine shook his head. Kurt smiled, dropping the box on the side and resting his hands on Blaine’s thighs, and kissed him again, their tongues sliding together and tasting traces of chocolate and wine. Kurt stood, pulling Blaine up with him, gently stroking the sore skin on his back then grabbing at his hips to pull them closer to his own. They stopped being hasty and desperate (and disastrous) and felt a calm wash over them, and Kurt turned his back to the counter. Blaine instinctively lifted him onto it, their lips still connected, and started to pull at the green synthetic fabric of his shirt.

“I’m tired of being the only shirtless one around here,” Blaine whispered into his mouth and Kurt nodded, pulling the polo over his head and letting it fall to the floor over the counter. They forgot about the state of the shop and Blaine’s various injuries and the incident on Friday and the accusations against Kurt, and felt nothing but each other. Kurt gasped as Blaine sucked into the hollow of his collarbone and resisted the urge to claw at his back, although Blaine wouldn’t have cared if he did. Blaine’s teeth dragged against his collarbone and between every kiss placed on Kurt’s chest he pressed another one to his lips. Kurt’s vision started to blur as Blaine’s tongue traced across his skin, circling his nipple and gradually reaching further and further down. A tremor rolled over his body when it dipped into his belly button for a second, and he felt Blaine undoing his jeans clumsily as he nuzzled against his stomach, nosing at the fold of skin over the fabric. It wasn’t much, just enough to be soft and pliant and ticklish. When Blaine kissed it, Kurt let out something between a giggle and a whine, biting his lip and tangling his fingers into Blaine’s hair. Blaine moved back up to Kurt’s face as he pulled the black denim away along with his briefs. He stayed focused on Kurt’s expression as his hand roamed over his cock, drinking in the sparkle in his eyes and the gasp from the back of his throat.

He kissed him again, squeezing his waist with one hand as the other started stroking him slowly. Ten minutes ago he would have been quick and rough, but they’d given themselves time to slow down and he had a chance to take Kurt apart carefully and deliberately. He could feel fingernails digging into his scalp and it only made him more eager, knowing that Kurt was losing control because of him. He finally let his mouth join his hands as he worked over Kurt’s erection, enjoying his convulsions at the slightest contact.

“Blaine, just, god-”

Blaine’s kisses slowed down to short bursts, the closest he could come to letting Kurt talk.

“Wh- what is it, baby?”

Kurt held onto Blaine for another real kiss, slow and lingering despite his loss of breath. He nodded at the bottom shelf behind Blaine, underneath the painkillers and cough syrup. Blaine glanced at the condoms and lube and without even a hint of a smirk, nodded and kissed Kurt again before turning away to grab supplies. Kurt used the opportunity to kick his shoes off and wriggle awkwardly until what was left of his uniform was on the floor. Blaine almost fell over stepping out of his shoes.

Even the momentary loss of the heat between his legs and the lips against his was enough to make Kurt whine, and as soon as Blaine was back in his arms, he was grabbing at him almost blindly. His hands skated over his hips, chest, waist, until they were pulling at his jeans. Blaine was more than willing to help, and he groaned with relief when the material was tugged away from his already restless cock. He could only maintain an air of control to a certain extent, where a more primal need took over. He did an awkward shimmy and shuffled until his jeans and boxers dropped to the floor, and he kicked them aside.

Blaine shuddered as whispers of ‘need it’ and ‘want you’ fell from Kurt’s lips between gasps that were empty syllables and obscenities. He could barely concentrate long enough to prep Kurt, coating his fingers with too much lube and fucking him with them, roughly and clumsily. Kurt was too desperate to care, arching into Blaine, slumping on his shoulder as he felt a mouth on him and fingers inside him and skin against his. The more he moaned, the faster Blaine’s movements became and the more he groaned back until Kurt couldn’t wait another second.

“No,” Blaine shook his head, “I don’t wanna hurt you, I, almost-”

“Blaine,” Kurt took Blaine’s face in his hands and kissed him again, “I’m gonna explode if you don’t fuck me. Right here. Please.”

Blaine nodded, helpless, and managed to roll the condom on without disentangling himself from Kurt’s legs. As he lined himself up, one hand on the small of Kurt’s back, for his own balance as much as Kurt’s comfort, Kurt reached down to grab his ass, pulling him up so that he couldn’t help pushing inside him, quicker and harder than he meant to. Blaine’s instinct was to pull away, terrified of hurting Kurt, but on hearing the loud, uninhibited groans coming from the back of Kurt’s throat, he found his hips snapping forward, regardless of his more chivalrous intentions.

Kurt kissed gently along Blaine’s shoulder while digging his fingers hard into the fleshy swell of his ass, squeezing in time with his thrusts, pulling him as close as possible so that he was filled, completely, over and over. He kept kissing Blaine, his tongue mirroring the thrusts he could feel, until Blaine’s cock bumped against his prostate, sending such a shiver through him that he found his body flattening on the counter. He lifted his legs up, resting his ankles on Blaine’s shoulders while Blaine held onto his thighs, their skin slapping together with each thrust.

His fingertips whitened as he gripped onto the edge of the counter, his other hand wandering aimlessly through his hair and down his chest. He absent-mindedly started stroking himself, and Blaine watched in awe as he writhed in front of him, forehead glistening, eyes rolling back into his head. His legs had fallen from Blaine’s shoulders and were splayed out to the sides, pushing his cheeks together, tightening the muscles around Blaine’s cock. Blaine had to hold himself inside Kurt, fingers digging into his hips, dropping his head to press kisses to Kurt’s thighs, pale and soft and spreading easily as he pushed them apart. Kurt was so completely exposed, his expression so wanton that Blaine had to hold still just to take him all in.

Kurt whined and ground his hips down, desperate for more friction. Blaine snapped back into focus, pushing slowly into Kurt once before fucking him with more force and a new hunger. His fingers curled tighter into Kurt’s hips, as his arms supported Kurt’s legs. Kurt was lifted almost completely off the counter with every push of Blaine’s hips, and he grabbed Blaine’s arm, trying to pull him even closer. Blaine understood Kurt’s groans of ‘uh’ and shifted so that he could wrap one arm around Kurt’s waist and the other around his thigh. He pulled him up so they were face to face again and kissed him clumsily as he felt legs coil around him, heels digging into his ass. He lifted Kurt away from the counter completely, somehow supporting him despite the trembling in his thighs. He turned around, still kissing Kurt when he pushed him into the wall behind him. Kurt clung to a shelf, gasping as his cock slid against Blaine’s stomach in time with his thrusts, which were getting more and more erratic. Blaine growled against Kurt’s jaw and kissed his neck, sending a spasm rolling over his body.

“Oh, fuck, Blaine… _uh_ , god…”

Kurt lowered one foot to a stool so he could reach around to grip onto Blaine’s ass, kneading into it, feeling the muscles contract under his fingers as Blaine kept fucking into him. Kurt’s soft, strong hands kept squeezing his cheeks, and as he slid one finger between them to circle his entrance, Blaine breathed out a new kind of groan, deep and broken. He gasped and Kurt slid his finger in, only lubricated with sweat, and with another kiss and a noisy, animalistic groan he came, pushing into Kurt a final time as he filled the condom. As Blaine’s grip tightened on his thigh and his muscles clenched around his finger, the noise coming from his throat was enough to send Kurt over the edge as it rolled over his skin.

Kurt’s hand held Blaine still inside him, stroking over his ass and his back in circles, easing him through his orgasm. They kept kissing, even as Blaine’s grip faltered and his legs started to buckle underneath him and all he could do was slump against Kurt, gasping for breath and clinging desperately to his waist. Just as Kurt planted two shaky feet on the ground, cupping Blaine’s face and kissing him again as he came down, swallowing the hiss that escaped his lips as his cock slipped out, there was another sudden burst of action.

Before Blaine had even tied off the condom, they heard a shout of “STOP! POLICE!” and three officers stormed in through the broken window, brandishing batons and quickly surveying the situation before grinding to a halt. They were experienced, but they’d never seen anything quite like this.

The shop was a disaster. There was a figure on the floor, a green polo shirt covering his head, surrounded by chocolate bars and bags of chips; another aisle was flooded with wine and sprinkled with shards of glass and a bigger puddle was oozing into the shop from the stock room. The most surprising sight, however, was the pair of naked boys behind the counter, red and sweating and giggling helplessly. They tried to regain their composure, making a half-assed attempt to cover themselves up, but they were too weak and exhausted and delirious. Even with the police in the store, they couldn’t stay away from each other, sneaking small, secretive touches to waists and hips and hands, and every time they tried to explain what had happened they simply burst out laughing again.

There was a groan from the floor and the lump began to stir. He moved Kurt’s shirt off his head, an expression of the purest confusion on his face. He looked from the police officers to the discarded fire extinguisher to the two boys and tried to piece together what had happened.

“I… I think I was having a sex dream?”

Kurt giggled even more, almost collapsing onto Blaine, burying his face in his shoulder. Blaine kissed his earlobe and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I think I was, too. We should probably get dressed.”


End file.
